Rhapsody, Child of Blood (42 page)

Even after the passage of endless time it had not been an easy relationship to convert to the status of friendship.

But now, seeing his shadow in the moonlight beneath the branches of the forest canopy, she realized he was far more dear to her than she ever would have believed.

Perhaps it was the passage of time and the natural outcome of growing accustomed to him. Perhaps it was more that he was one of only two people in the entire world who had known her in her other life. She threw herself into Grunthor's waiting arms, struggling to ignore the hideous odor that had remained on his body from the Root.

Unlike herself, the two Firbolg had not found the opportunity to wash well in the intervening two months; it was amazing that they had remained undetected all this time. She could smell them from a good distance away.

'Oi was worried, Duchess, but you're a sight for sore eyes," the Sergeant said, a slight catch in his voice.

'I can't tell you how glad I am to see you," she said, hugging him tightly. When he put her down she turned to Achmed and opened her arms as well. She thought she saw a flicker of a smile cross his face in the moonlit shadow; then he returned her embrace quickly and led her over to a sheltered copse of trees where they could confer out of the wind.

-

Once they had reached the hidden glen they sat on a frozen log facing each other, to keep the distance between their spoken words short.

'Did they treat you well? Were you abused in any way?" Achmed asked, tapping his gloved fingers together.

'No, not at all. Did you find out anything interesting?"

'Quite a bit. Most important where you're concerned, we explored the principality to the south of here, a place called Avonderre, and found the main trade route to the seaport. It shouldn't be too difficult to get you there undetected, and then you can secure passage home."

Rhapsody's mouth went dry, and she fought back the tears the Dhracian had forbidden so long ago. "No point in that now," she said, her voice breaking.

A look of puzzlement came into the mismatched eyes. "What? Why not?"

'Because home has been gone fourteen hundred years now." cAfter she regained her composure, the two Firbolg questioned Rhapsody intently about what she had learned during her time at Llauron's, particularly the information that had pertained to Serendair.

She went over everything she knew, in some cases several times, outlining Llauron's story of Gwylliam, the last of the Seren high kings, and his forewarning of the Island's doom. She explained the arrival of the Cymrians and their assimilation into the culture of this land, and how the Age they had brought and the realm they had founded had disappeared in the smoke and devastation of a great war centuries ago.

Achmed had asked her many questions she had been unable to answer, notably exactly how the Island had really met its doom, and how long it had been between their leaving the Island through the Root, and when the Cymrian ships had sailed.

Rhapsody found the questions tiresome.

'Look, I didn't think it was wise to ask that," she said, somewhat testily. "What did you expect me to say—'Hey, Llauron, I've never heard of Gwylliam before, he must have come after Trinian, who was the crown prince when I lived there. How many years or kings after him was Gwylliam?'"

Beneath his tattered hood Achmed smiled slightly. "I suppose you have a point. I was just hoping to know how things worked out there, if anything that was being planned when we left came to pass."

'I have no idea. I don't even know if Gwylliam was of Trinian's line, or if Trinian even ascended the throne. For all I know, Gwylliam or one of his predecessors usurped the throne from the rightful heirs."

'You have no idea what a real possibility that is."

'And I don't care!" she shouted. Grunthor quickly put his hand to her lips, covering much of her face.

She lowered her voice, but the anger was still there. "Don't you see? It doesn't make a damned bit of difference. Everyone and everything I've ever loved is Aecid,' and has been for more than a millennium; do you think I care what the lineage of the king was? Whether your hunters lived a year, or ten, or a hundred? They're dead, too. So celebrate; you've lost your enemies. Just don't expect me to join you."

Achmed and Grunthor exchanged a glance. "Oi 'ope you're right, miss," Grunthor said at last.

'Of course I'm right. Didn't you hear what I said? Fourteen centuries"

'It's not a given, Rhapsody," Achmed said tersely. "There are some evils for which time is not a barrier or a limitation."

'Well, Achmed, you can have a go at asking Llauron yourself. He wants to meet you both."

Achmed recoiled like the spring of his cwellan. "What?"

Rhapsody withered under the icy stare. "He knows you're here; he told me so last night. I didn't give you away; I swear. He is the supreme head of his religion, the Filids; each of them knows the forest intimately, and these are his lands. He could feel you on them. He said he would like to meet you, and would come to you, if you were uncomfortable coming to him."

Grunthor looked dismayed, and Achmed buried his head in his hands. "Gods. Well, I suppose it was to be expected. This is a very strange place; what we saw made no sense, wherever we went."

'How so?"

'Everywhere we scouted there seemed to be peculiar border incursions, and random raids on villages that were totally unarmed and unprepared, though it is obvious the people of this region have come to expect this, in a way.

'At first we thought the Lirin lands to the south and this area were at war, but there are no other signs of it. Just pointless pillaging and looting, destruction of property and slaughter for no apparent reason.

'The raiders are from different places each time, and they don't seem to be after anything but destruction and terror. We watched huge stacks of valuables seized in one of the attacks piled into a village square and burned, instead of being taken and sold.

'Once we tracked a raiding party that had destroyed a town in Avonderre and saw it return to die guard barracks of the very town it had attacked. We could have written it off to treachery, but then within a few days the town came under attack again, and this time the same guards defended it with their lives.

'Something evil, diabolical even, is going on in this place. War is the end result of actions like this, particularly when racial hatred is involved. It's only a matter of time before the Lirin lands and some of the central principalities of Roland are in all-out combat."

Rhapsody sighed. "Wonderful. Is it too late to go back and live on the Root?"

Grunthor chuckled. "Sorry, Yer Ladyship, the tavern is closed."

'Perhaps meeting this priest might give us some answers at that," Achmed said as if musing aloud. He grimaced. "I hate the clergy, but I suppose I could hold my nose long enough to talk to him for a few hours."

Rhapsody laughed. "No offense, brother dear, but I don't think you're the one who will be needing to hold his nose." ipespite the distance Grunthor was maintaining, Rhapsody could tell the strawberry bay was nervous. She could feel the trembling muscles of its flanks beneath her legs.

'I'll be back in the morning," she said, running her hand comfortingly down the animal's neck. "Once I've given Llauron the message I'll come back and stay with you until he comes." She took the reins in hand.

'Hold up," Achmed said. He reached into the pocket of his makeshift cloak and pulled out the oilcloth rubbing. "Can you read this?"

Rhapsody took it and held it up to her face in the darkness, trying to illuminate it with the moonlight. A moment later a tiny flame sparked, and Achmed held a wick from the tinderbox over it.

Her brow furrowed. "What is this?"

'It's a rubbing we took off the plaque we told you about in that ship-temple."

'Hmmm. It's not very clear. These symbols on the top spell out Kirsdirke—no, Kirsdarke. There are too many parts down below it that are smudged or missing to get a real sense of what the text says. Something about Kirsdarke being committed unto the sea and the hand of All-God, probably'the Creator,' Abbat—Father—something that begins with 'M'; I can't tell. This part says something about the altar stone of the All-God's temple."

'The plaque was on the front of an obsidian block."

'Maybe that was the altar stone. It mentions Serendair here, I think, at least I can make out several letters in the right places to spell Serendair. It could be something else. It also mentions something about Kirsdarke being borne by someone named Ma—gint, maybe, Monodiere."

'MacQuieth? MacQuieth Monodiere?"

Rhapsody nodded. "Perhaps. It could be, I can't tell. Was that the MacQuieth? The hero from home?"

'Yes. We thought perhaps this place was Monodiere, but I guess we're farther away from Serendair even than that."

'You're right," Rhapsody agreed. "Monodiere was on the mainland of a landmass that Serendair traded with, and was commonly known to cartographers. This place was uncharted, at least in detail, thought to be uninhabited when we—" Her voice broke.

'It must have been difficult trying to adjust to the knowledge of how far out of time we are, all alone these past few months," Achmed said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "It will get easier."

Rhapsody tried to smile, but the attempt was feeble. "Perhaps for you," she said.

"I'll be back." She clicked to the horse and rode off into the night.

came to the clearing in the woods two nights later. A fire had been laid, and logs set around it to sit on, better to facilitate what Rhapsody expected to be a difficult conversation. Achmed was fully robed and hooded, with only his eyes showing.

Grunthor, on the other hand, had opted to be comfortable and had removed his spiked helmet, under the assumption that he would be rather discernible no matter what he did.

The Invoker came dressed as he usually was, in the plain gray robes of his order, a simple hemp rope tied as a belt around the waist. He maintained a respectful distance from the fire until invited nearer, and then sat and chatted pleasantly while he opened the sack he had brought with him and offered the others fruit, bread and cheese, and a stout bottle of brandy, for which he had brought silver snifters.

'It's a pleasure to meet you both at last," he said as he poured a generous splash into Grunthor's glass. "Any friend of this lady is welcome in these woods and in my home. Perhaps after we've had a chance to get to know one another a bit, you might do me the favor of taking advantage of my hospitality for a while. The house is simple, but the beds are comfortable and the food is wholesome. And we can see about reoutfitting you." A shower of sparks from the fire broke into the air and was extinguished on the wind.

'We'll see," said Achmed noncommittally.

'I was hoping you might tell us a story, Llauron, perhaps of the history of this place.

I've told Grunthor and Achmed what a wonderful storyteller you are," Rhapsody said.

The blazing firelight reflected off the kindly face. "Of course; I'd be delighted." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and touched the fingertips of his folded hands to his lips for a moment. His eyes glittered in the dark.

'Long ago, more years than even He-Who-Counts can remember, an ancient copper dragon lived at the foot of the Great White Tree, though it was but a sapling in those days of the Earth's childhood. These were her lands, from the northern fringe of the Lirin realm in the south to the edge of the Hin-tervold in the north, and she lived here alone, for she was suspicious of outsiders, and humans in particular.

'Because her power over the Earth was so great, no human was able to broach her domain, and so this place was one of mystery to the world of men. The Lirin she trusted, for though their race was not as ancient as her own, they were one with the land, much as she was, and they lived peaceably as neighbors. The dragon's name was Elynsynos.

'One day the dragon looked out over the sea and saw a light on the waves unlike any she had ever seen before. It was a fire burning within water, and held within a tiny crystal globe, serv —ing as a candle on the water, a mariner's marker in times of darkness or shipwreck, a beacon in the dark. The melding of the two opposing elements, fire and water, fascinated Elynsynos, and she took it as a sign that change was in the wind.

'Not long afterward a sailor touched the shore of her realm. He was a tall man, golden of skin, one of the race known as the Ancient Seren, the indigenous people of the Island of Ser-endair, the land on the other side of the world from which he had come. The dragon grew even more excited, because she recognized his race as one of the Firstborn, the five strains of beings that were created first when the world was new.

She knew this because, like the Ancient Seren, dragons are also a firstborn race."

'What are the others?" Grunthor asked. "Each of the five elements, ether, water, wind, earth, and fire, was the parent of a race. The Seren were the oldest, born of ether, the matter that makes up the stars. The children of water were called Mythlin.

Those born of the wind were known as the Kith. The dragons were the offspring of the Earth itself. Lastly, the race given birth to by the rashest of all the elements, fire, was called F'dor. But that's a different story, one better suited to the light of day.

'The sailor's name was Merithyn. He was an explorer, sent out in the service of his sovereign, Gwylliam, the last of the Seren high kings, to find a suitable place for his people to colonize. Gwylliam knew that their homeland was about to be destroyed in fire, and he wanted to save his people and their culture, though I suspect there might also have been the desire to maintain his rulership as well. He had sent Merithyn forth to find that suitable place.

'Eventually Merithyn came to the borders of Elynsynos's realm but, unlike the other men, he was able to cross them without trouble. Perhaps this is because, as a member of a firstborn race older than Elynsynos herself, his bond to the elements was stronger than hers. Or, more likely, it was because she wanted him to come to her. In her fascination she had assumed a human form, one like that of his own race, designing it to be what she perceived he would find attractive. Apparently she chose well, for, upon seeing her, Merithyn fell in love with her. "Elynsynos lost her heart to the wayfarer as well. When he explained his mission she decided the best way to solve his di lemma and to keep him with her always was to offer his people haven within her lands.